


every thought, everything

by playedwright



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Emotional Sex, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Hickeys, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Social Media AU Bonuses, basically they r ... in love and this got out of hand as it always does xoxo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: Richie lets out a slow, controlled breath. Like he’s pacing himself. Or preparing himself. Maybe both. Maybe the same fire that’s been burning underneath Eddie’s skin ever since he realized it has been burning under Richie’s, too. That kind of fever pitch asks for patience. Eddie and Richie have given patience everything they have.There’s another beat, before Richie decides they’ve waited long enough.“So, are you gonna kiss me now?” Richie asks.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 293





	every thought, everything

**Author's Note:**

> scams got me on retainer for their smaus. (jk i have serious brain rot and am always overenthusiastic to write prose for their aus bc they r too good) ANYWAYS this is for [scams](https://twitter.com/chernobrough), set in their social media au called [corporate ghouls](https://twitter.com/CorporateGhouls), an au where ghouls are real and eddie works as a risk analyst for them. this smau is top notch, so i highly recommend reading that first.
> 
> set between updates 319 and 321
> 
> without further ado, enjoy!

Eddie’s hands are shaking.

Stupid. _Stupid._ He’s fine. Like, statistically speaking, he has no reason to be this nervous. It’s Richie. It’s _Richie._ It’s not like the world is going to end if this doesn’t go the way that Eddie wants it to. Eddie’s dealt with end of the world scenarios before, kind of, stuff that comes with the job. This is not as dire as that.

It does, for some reason, feel just as important though.

Eddie can’t quite look Richie in the face when he shuffles into the living room, finally, and places the two mugs of tea on the coffee table. Richie shifts in his seat.

  
“You’re nervous,” Richie murmurs. Eddie sits down heavily next to him, a little surprised at his own transparency.

“You can tell?” he asks, with a humorless, anxious laugh.

Richie shrugs. Picks at a frayed string at the bottom of his old t-shirt. Sheepishly, he quietly admits, “Can always tell when it’s you.”

God. Every time Richie says something like that, it makes Eddie feel like his bones are finally waking up. Like every fiber of muscle and tissue in his body is stirring to life, after being asleep for some thirty-odd years. It makes Eddie feel brave. No. Well. It reminds him how brave he is.

Eddie twists his fingers together in his lap. “I don’t know why,” he huffs out. He still can’t look quite at Richie. Wonders if it’s embarrassment at his own nerves that’s stopping him from catching Richie’s eye or if it’s because Richie’s so bright and beautiful that Eddie wants to make sure every time he looks at Richie it counts.

“It’s okay,” Richie tells him softly. He seems to startle, when he realizes how gently he speaks. Eddie’s helplessly endeared by the way Richie’s jaw works as he chews on the inside of his lip. Perhaps just as nervous as Eddie is. For god knows what reason 

“I just wanted to talk to you about something,” Eddie says finally, a rush of air, a sentence tacked on right at the end of an exhale.

Richie’s got a stupid, goofy grin on his face. Not a grin that tells Eddie he thinks this is a joke. No, he thinks, Richie recognizes this for what it is, and that stupid, perfect smile is nothing more than the most perfect, most _Richie_ response imaginable. “Good thing I’ve got these big ass ears then, I’ll make sure I listen.”

“Fuck off, there’s nothing wrong with your ears,” Eddie bursts out, unbidden. His face flushes.

But Richie’s just beaming at him. “You saying you like my ears?”

It’s an opening. Hell, everything’s been an opening. Eddie’s had chance after chance to say something, but he never took the plunge. Not this time, though. There’s no hesitancy in the way he comes to the decision.

Bravely, boldly, Eddie says, “I like all of you.”

If Eddie were to list his favorite Richie smiles, the list would go like this: the shy smile he gets when Eddie compliments his dinner, the shit-eating smirk he wears when he says something that he knows will rile Eddie up, the sleep-drunk upturn of his lips when he just wakes up, and then this one. Above all else, this. The quiet, anticipatory grin that tentatively stretches across Richie’s face as Eddie’s words sink in. He’s so beautiful it makes Eddie’s teeth hurt.

“All of me?” Richie asks, raising an eyebrow. Like it’s a challenge. Like it’s a confirmation.

“All of you,” Eddie repeats, and he means it tenfold.

Richie lets out a slow, controlled breath. Like he’s pacing himself. Or preparing himself. Maybe both. Maybe the same fire that’s been burning underneath Eddie’s skin ever since he realized it has been burning under Richie’s, too. That kind of fever pitch asks for patience. Eddie and Richie have given patience everything they have.

There’s another beat, before Richie decides they’ve waited long enough.

“So, are you gonna kiss me now?” Richie asks.

The world slows down for a beat. Eddie can feel it. The way everything halts, allowing Eddie a single moment for the words to process. It should be surreal. It almost is. Richie’s sprawled across his side of the couch, one foot tucked under his other knee so he can turn and face Eddie. His expression is open, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to put out there. And hell, maybe it is. Maybe they’ve been on this road before, and it was only a matter of time before they reached this point.

Richie’s not afraid. So Eddie won’t be either.

Eddie reaches up and presses the palm of his hand to Richie’s cheek, cupping it. He shifts forward. Leans his head in. He watches as Richie’s eyelids flutter closed in anticipation. Eddie lets himself get close enough that his bottom lip nearly brushes against the tip of Richie’s mouth. Richie’s breath hitches when Eddie pauses.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eddie murmurs.

“I, um,” Richie breathes. Eddie’s nose bumps against Richie’s gently. Encouraging. Maybe a little bit teasing. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?” Eddie says. He pushes Richie’s glasses up into his hair, then ghosts his fingertips along one of Richie’s cheekbones and his nose against the other one. He bites his own lip to keep from smirking.

Richie’s voice is shaky when he says, “Yeah, I want you to kiss me.”

There are certain inevitabilities in Eddie Kaspbrak’s life. He was built for a career with numbers. His favorite day will always be Saturday. He prefers the right side of the bed. His left hand still hasn’t gotten used to being ringless, even though that marriage never felt right. And, most recently, there is the inevitability that kissing Richie Tozier is the easiest choice he’s ever had to make.

He fits their mouths together on an inhale, catching the beginning of a startled breath Richie lets out right before their mouths connect. Richie rises to meet him instantly, fixing the angle before Eddie can even realize it’s just a little crooked. It’s good. Hell, it’s better than good. Eddie’s half convinced he’s waited his whole life for this.

Richie’s mouth is warm. Perfect. He kisses like he knows exactly what Eddie wants him to do. Eddie can feel the way Richie’s jaw works under his fingertips as he slips his tongue further into Eddie’s mouth and licks behind his teeth. God, Richie’s a good kisser.

One of Richie’s hands tentatively presses against Eddie’s side. He’s not tentative for long, spurred on by the sound that Eddie makes against his lips the second Richie pushes up the fabric of his sweatshirt and his hand comes in contact with Eddie’s skin. Richie trails his fingers up Eddie’s side at a tantalizing pace, then back down Eddie’s arm. At Eddie’s wrist, he wraps his fingers around it tenderly. Holding on. Steadying them both.

It’s intoxicating. Richie’s intoxicating. The drag of his mouth against Eddie’s would be enough to drive anyone insane. And Richie was everywhere. In all of his senses, overwhelming as much of Eddie as they could possibly take. Warm mouth. Soft fingers. The ghost of a smile, even as Eddie kisses him. The heat from his body, a promise of things to come, even as he stays in his spot on the other side of the couch.

They pull apart after just a moment, both breathing heavily. Eddie rests his forehead against Richie’s to keep their faces close.

Richie lets out a small laugh. “Yeah,” he says, a bit breathlessly. It makes Eddie’s toes curl. “That’s the stuff.”

Eddie is helpless to stop the giggle that bursts out of him. He cradles Richie’s face in his hands, stroking his thumb along Richie’s cheek. He smiles when Richie turns his head to press a soft kiss to the inside of Eddie’s palm. Richie’s perfect. God, he truly is. Eddie’s so in love with him he can feel it coating the walls of this place. He can feel it in every fiber of his existence.

He can’t say it. Not yet. It’s much too soon. Right? It is. Even if he feels it. Even if he knows it stronger and with more certainty than he’s known anything else. Richie deserves time. Time to fall in love, too. Time to get used to the idea of being loved.

No. He can’t say it yet.

“Something on your mind?” Richie murmurs, peeking an eye open and catching Eddie’s gaze. He reaches up and brushes strands of Eddie’s hair back off his forehead. It feels intimate, surprisingly so, in a way that perhaps it shouldn’t considering that Richie’s tongue was just down his throat.

“I wanna kiss you,” Eddie murmurs intently. Needs Richie to understand that he’s never meant anything as seriously and as desperately as he means this. Eddie can feel Richie’s pulse, with the way he’s still cradling Richie’s face. Strong. Fast.

Richie’s eyes are wide. “I’m not gonna hold you back, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says. His brain is fuzzy, in a kiss-drunk way that makes his sides feel like they’re on fire and makes his fingers feel like they aren’t touching Richie enough. “No, I. I want to _kiss_ you. I want you to. Feel it everywhere. Feel _me._ Everywhere.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Richie breathes, and he puts his hand underneath Eddie’s thigh and tugs him forward, swinging Eddie’s leg over his hips and pulling him back down for a searing kiss. It’s messy. It’s perfect. Strange, being taller than Richie like this, but hot. He likes the way he feels like he can control the kiss better. Likes that when he shifts back, Richie chases the kiss immediately, rising to meet him. Likes that he can put his fingers in Richie’s hair to tease him and likes that he can put his hands on the back of the couch to keep Richie pinned and likes that he can sprawl his open palms against Richie’s shoulders and admire their broadness.

Richie tugs Eddie’s bottom lip between his teeth with a soft pull, and smooths the scrape with the swell of his tongue. Richie’s figured out that Eddie hates it, likes it, loves it when he teases Eddie by pulling away just as the kiss starts to deepen.

“Why weren’t we doing this the whole time?” Eddie gasps out, pressing his forehead down heavy against the top of Richie’s head when Richie breaks the kiss and moves to a spot on Eddie’s jawline. “What the fuck? We could have been doing this the _whole time._ ”

“You’re wasting _now_ time,” Richie says, exasperated, and he gets a fistful of Eddie’s sweater and tugs him back down with an easy pull. Eddie fits his hand along Richie’s jaw as their mouths connect again, cradling him as he starts the kiss off filthy and open. He swallows Richie’s gasp. Chases the taste of his own tongue on the inside of Richie’s cheek. Richie’s content to let Eddie take control, and it’s exactly what Eddie needs from him right now.

Eddie moves his hands, sliding them down Richie’s shoulders and digging the tips of his fingers into the soft muscles of Richie’s chest. He can feel Richie’s heartbeat here, too. Every inch of him drives Eddie insane. He wants to put his lips on every part of Richie that he can reach.

“Can we—” he starts, and it gets cut off with a sharp gasp when Richie shifts his hips forward and presses them closer together.

Richie’s panting as he whispers back, “Yeah. Yes.”

Breathless laughter. “I didn’t even. Ask.”

“I know what you’re asking,” Richie murmurs. He reaches up, large hand cupping the back of Eddie’s neck. _I know what you’re asking._ Hell, he does. He does. Richie knows Eddie. Better than fucking anyone. Of course Richie knows.

Eddie kisses Richie as he says, “Come on,” and keeps kissing him even as he pulls himself off the couch. Keeps a fist full of Richie’s shirt to tug him forward, too, and keep them as close as possible. Richie’s breath hitches, and Eddie kisses him through that, too.

This is their apartment. Their home. Eddie has lived here for long enough he could wander these halls with his eyes closed. He’s thankful for it, now. He navigates them towards his bedroom with ease, and doesn’t take his hands off of Richie once. Richie holds him close, too. Presses their hips too close together and causes them both to stumble. Catches Eddie against the wall and pins him there, just for a second, so that he can kiss Eddie stupid. He slides a hand down Eddie’s thigh again, cupping it and pulling Eddie closer.

Eddie smooths his hands down Richie’s chest, down his stomach. He hesitantly pinches the edge of Richie’s t-shirt between his fingers. Richie buries his nose in Eddie’s neck and breathes in deeply. His shoulders are shaking. Eddie drops the t-shirt and tugs them flush together, holding him close. Softly, he murmurs, “What? What is it?”

Richie’s breathless laughter puffs against his jawline. He covers it with a kiss.

“Rich,” Eddie says.

“Give me a sec,” Richie croaks out.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks. He runs his fingers down Richie’s back, soothing.

Richie nods against his neck. A strange sense of fondness rushes through Eddie at that. He’s struck once again by the realization that he loves Richie more than he’s ever loved anything. Easier than he’s ever loved anything. It’s overwhelming how much he wants Richie to understand. How desperately he hopes that Richie knows how loved he is, how _brilliant_ and real and alive and good he is. Eddie will kiss every inch of his body to prove it to him. He’ll do whatever it takes.

“You’ve got something to tell me,” Richie says, pulling away. He cradles Eddie’s face in his hands. Belatedly, Eddie realizes Richie wasn’t asking him a question. It was matter of fact. Richie knows Eddie has something to tell him.

He balks. Nervous, now, more than he’s ever been. He still isn’t sure why.

“It’s okay,” Richie whispers, and the damn breaks.

“I love you,” Eddie says. The words fall from his mouth like they’ve been perched there for decades, waiting for the right moment to jump. No regrets. No hesitation. The truest thing Eddie’s ever said. “I love you, Richie, I seriously. I love you so much it’s the only reason my lungs work. I love you so much that I’m rewriting everything I know for you. That’s. That’s just it, really. I love you.”

Richie beams. There’s truly no other word for it. It’s the most vibrant smile Eddie’s ever seen on him. Eddie’s struck by the unshakable feeling that he’s got to say it another time. Over and over again, just to make sure Richie really gets it.

“Say it again,” Richie murmurs, and who is Eddie to deny him that?

“I love you,” Eddie says. He punctuates it with a soft kiss to the side of Richie’s mouth. “I love you.” Another kiss, ghosting along his cheekbone. “I love you.” A kiss right at his hairline. “I love you. I love you.” Two kisses, each softly pressed to the delicate skin of Richie’s eyelids. “I love you.” A kiss on the bridge of his nose. Against the corner of his lips. Along the cutting edge of his jawline. Pressed to the soft skin of his neck. Teasing his collarbone. 

Richie’s breath hitches there. Eddie pauses.

“Eddie,” he says, wonderstruck and breathless. Reverent.

Eddie tugs the soft skin at Richie’s collarbone between his teeth. He’s spurred on by Richie’s sharp gasp. It feels good, knowing he can do this to Richie. Knowing he can draw out such noises by sucking on the skin and quiet Richie by smoothing the skin over with a flick of his tongue. He’s going to leave a mark, if he keeps this up. That thought alone sends a spark of thrills down his spine. It shouldn’t surprise him, truly, that he _wants_ to mark Richie up, but it does. God, it does.

“ _Eddie,_ ” Richie says again, more urgently this time. Eddie bites the skin again and presses his lips down harder to soothe it again. Richie lets out another sharp noise before reaching up to cup Eddie’s face and tug him back up for a real kiss.

It’s hot. Hotter than it has any right to be, with them still standing in the hallway, not close enough to anyone’s bedroom. And it’s filthy. Richie licks into Eddie’s mouth like he’s been waiting his whole life to do so. His grip on Eddie’s face is just enough to keep him there, in the right kind of way that makes Eddie feel like he’s seconds from bursting out of his skin.

Eddie grabs a fistful of Richie’s t-shirt, impatient now, and pushes them both off the wall, staggering towards the bedroom on unsteady feet. He feels, once again, like he’s drunk in the best way possible. Drunk on Richie’s dirty kisses, and drunk on the expansive way that Richie’s hands feel when they cover Eddie’s body, and drunk on the way he’s almost positive that this is something he’s going to have for the rest of his life.

Richie’s back hits Eddie’s closed door after another moment of stumbling down the hall. Eddie swallows the surprised huff of air he breathes out. Eddie feels another surge of heat rush through him when Richie’s hand fumbles for the door handle, struggling for a beat before he finds it and the door swings open. He’s more than content to let Eddie continue to take the lead, pushing them back towards Eddie’s bed with feet that keep tripping over one another with how close they are. Richie’s giggling by the time Eddie gets them to the bed and pushes him down into it.

“Something funny?” Eddie asks, arching an eyebrow. Richie spreads his knees on the edge of the bed, and Eddie stands between them.

For a moment, all Eddie can think about is how beautiful Richie is like this. Sprawled out across Eddie’s bed, shirt rucked up his stomach just enough to tease, mouth kiss-swollen and eyes wild and glasses still pushed up into his hair. He’s squinting at Eddie, just to try and see him better, and it makes Eddie’s heart clench.

“Yeah,” Richie says finally. Breathless. Beautiful. “No. I don’t know. I just feel. Happy. It’s, like, bubbling out of me, dude.”

Eddie gets it. He feels the same way.

With Richie still watching him, he grabs a handful of the fabric at the back of his neck and pulls his sweater off in one quick motion. He can hear the choked off sound Richie makes, and he lets himself feel smug about it. Feels pleased that he gets to do this at all, pleased that he can make Richie responsive about the tiniest things.

“Get over here right now,” Richie croaks out, and he sits up on the bed and gets a hand on Eddie’s hip to tug him onto the bed. Eddie goes easily. He kneels on either side of Richie and meets him in the middle, pressing their chests flush together as he catches Richie’s mouth against his own.

There’s a quiet kind of desperation in this kiss. They both know they want more, but there’s a level of content that comes with knowing that at least they have this. At least they have now.

Whatever restraint Richie had kissed with at the beginning is gone now, replaced by a steady confidence that leaves no room for hesitation in the way he licks behind Eddie’s teeth and slides their tongues together. He’s still got one hand on Eddie’s hipbone, keeping them close together, and he presses his other hand to Eddie’s jaw.

They could spend the whole day like this, but Eddie gets the feeling neither of them want to. Richie must come to that conclusion at the same time, because he gently breaks the kiss and murmurs, as they’re both breathing heavily, “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” Eddie gasps out.

Richie laughs. The breath of it hits Eddie’s mouth. He parts his lips in surprise when Richie reaches forward and presses his thumb to the swell of his mouth. His eyelids flutter closed. “You have me,” Richie promises. “Every way you want.”

“God,” Eddie breathes, and Richie’s thumb moves out of the way as he crashes them together again, meeting Richie in a kiss that does nothing to mask how frantic they both feel now. He wants his mouth on every inch of Richie’s skin. He wants his hand tracing every surface. He wants to bury himself in Richie, wants to carve a place for himself where he’ll fit perfectly, forever, wants to be inside him and move with him and love him better than anyone ever has before.

Almost as though he can tell what Eddie’s thinking, Richie lets go of his hold on Eddie and drops his hands to his own t-shirt, breaking the kiss for just long enough to shrug it off before Eddie connects them once again. He makes a contented hum when Eddie kisses him this time, pushing up down until they’re both lying on the mattress, chests flush. It’s amazing how responsive Richie is. How he almost seems to know exactly what Eddie’s about to do before he does it, and how he always knows what Eddie wants next. His hands are burning into Eddie’s side, leaving trails of heat wherever they brush against the bare skin. Eddie’s body covers Richie’s, but it’s not enough.

“You’re so beautiful,” Eddie murmurs, breaking the kiss and pressing his lips to Richie’s jawline. Richie’s head drops back, granting Eddie more space. But Eddie doesn’t stay there for long. He kisses his way down Richie’s jaw, down his neck, down his chest. He pauses at the mark from earlier that he left on Richie’s collarbone, already darkening beautifully. Eddie can’t help but put his mouth there again. Can’t help but pull the sensitive skin between his teeth one more time. He wishes he could swallow the choked out sound that Richie makes.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Richie breathes. His breath hitches again when Eddie drops down and flicks his tongue against Richie’s nipple. Richie yelps out, hand smacking the mattress and fisting the sheets there.

Eddie presses a kiss there and whispers, “Let me take care of you.”

Richie lets out a startled laugh. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

“You wanna take care of me?’ Eddie says, shifting back up and catching Richie’s gaze.

It takes a moment, Eddie thinks, for Richie to comprehend what he’s saying. But a beat passes and Richie reaches up and puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek again, and says in a tone more sincere than Eddie’s ever heard before, “Course I wanna take care of you, idiot. I want to make you feel so fucking good.”

“You do,” Eddie promises. “You make me feel so fucking good, I promise.”

Richie exhales sharply. “I’ll take care of you,” he swears, and Eddie moves again to kiss right above Richie’s heart. He kisses down Richie’s stomach. Kisses each of his hip bones. Kisses as much skin as he can cover right now. “I will, Eds, I’ll. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Let me take care of you first,” Eddie tells him, and he slips his hands below the waistband of Richie’s sweats and tugs them down.

“Eddie,” Richie whispers. Eddie eases his pants down, slowly revealing inch by inch of Richie’s thighs, then knees, then calves, until he reaches Richie’s ankles and pulls the sweatpants off in one decisive motion. Richie’s already hard, Eddie notes, and it sends a thrill through him. Eddie wants to get his mouth on Richie so badly he feels lightheaded with it.

He kisses his way back up Richie’s leg, taking his time. Showering Richie in the love that he deserves. Richie’s breath hitches again, when Eddie reaches the tender skin of his inner thighs. Eddie’s struck with curiosity at how Richie would respond if Eddie left marks there, too.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Richie breathes out, like he’s read Eddie’s mind, and that’s all the convincing that he needs. He presses his lips there softly at first, barely-there pressure that has Richie writhing. Eddie pushes the fabric of Richie’s boxers up higher, revealing more skin. The first time that Eddie gently bites, Richie rocks forward so hard it nearly pitches them both off the bed.

Eddie takes it in stride, steadying them both. He soothes the bite with his tongue then sucks on the skin there.

Richie’s fingers run through Eddie’s hair, pushing the strands back. Eddie’s not sure if the motion is to keep him in place or to steady Richie. But he doesn’t mind. He moves to another spot on Richie’s inner thigh, a little bit higher, and sucks the skin there between his teeth, too.

He loses track of how many hickeys he leaves on Richie’s thighs. But he gets lost in it, lost in the soft feeling of Richie’s skin underneath his lips. Lost in the way that Richie shifts up to meet Eddie, each time Eddie bites down in a new spot. Lost in the sounds that fall easily and beautifully from Richie’s mouth, spurring him on in the best way.

“Eddie, please,” Richie chokes out, when Eddie’s running his tongue along his latest hickey, one near the top of Richie’s thigh, teasingly high.

“Please what?” Eddie asks.

Richie’s voice is breathless as he asks, “Put your mouth on me, Jesus, Eds, I can’t. I need you.”

The dam breaks. The flood swells. Richie _needs_ him. Hell, that’s it, isn’t it? Eddie is needed. Better than that, he’s needed by _Richie,_ and that means everything to him. God, it really is everything. It’s what all of this has been about. He doesn’t waste another second, easing Richie’s boxers off his hips with a fluid motion and throwing them gracelessly somewhere in his bedroom. Eddie gives himself half a second to admire Richie’s dick, thick and big and dripping at the tip, before pressing a kiss to the head and swallowing Richie down.

He’s ready, this time, when Richie bucks up. Braces one hand on the mattress and the other on Richie’s hip. He takes it in stride as Richie twitches and cries out and adjusts to the warm heat of Eddie’s mouth around him.

Richie’s too big for Eddie to fit entirely in his mouth, so once Richie settles back down against the mattress, Eddie wraps one of his hands around the base of his dick. Richie is warm and heavy. Perfect in Eddie’s mouth. He smooths his tongue along the underside of Richie’s dick, pressing against the vein there, before nearly pulling off and flicking the tip of his tongue right against Richie’s slit. He’s trying to find a rhythm, a pace. The things that drive Richie most insane, repeated over and over again until Richie is writhing underneath him.

Richie seems content to let it happen. One hand clings to the sheets of Eddie’s bed, gripping Eddie’s comforter between his fingers. The other is still twined in Eddie’s hair. Eddie wonders if Richie’s trying to hold himself back. Wonders if Richie wishes he could fuck into Eddie’s mouth, into the warmth of it.

Eddie’s own erection is straining against his pants, calling for attention that Eddie won’t give so long as he’s got Richie to take care of. Part of him thinks he could get off like this, in his pants and everything, like he’s some horny teenager rutting against a mattress and not a grown man in his thirties who has done this before.

There’s a moment where he pauses. Has Eddie done this before? He knows he has. But has it ever meant as much as it means now? This moment, shared with the man who has consumed his every thought since the moment they met? Has it ever mattered like it does right now, just because it’s Richie?

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that Richie’s gone just a bit quiet. Likely lost in his own head, the way he gets sometimes. Eddie’s learned it happens frequently, especially when Richie’s feeling overwhelmed. He peeks open an eye.

Richie’s staring at the ceiling. His chest heaves as he takes deep breaths. Eddie rises up to meet him. Places his hand gently on Richie’s cheek until Richie’s eyelids shutter and his gaze catches Eddie’s. “Hey, you,” Eddie says softly.

“Hey, yourself,” Richie croaks out. His voice sounds properly fucked out, in a way that makes Eddie’s chest swell.

“You still with me?” he asks. Bringing Richie back to this. Keeping him in the moment. Keeping him safe. That’s what it’s always about, Eddie realizes. Taking care of Richie, protecting Richie. Everything has always been about making Richie safe and happy.

Richie hums. Eddie strokes his hair back off his face. His glasses are somewhere on the mattress, taken off at some point where Eddie hadn’t truly been paying attention. Richie’s face is flushed. His eyes close again as Eddie tenderly touches his face. Brushing hair away, smoothing the skin, reassuring him. 

“I’m here,” Richie says, finally, and he peeks an eye open again. He grins when he catches Eddie’s eye. “Thanks.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “For what, you dork?”

“Bringing me back,” Richie says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Eddie’s heart bursts.

“Anytime,” he says, and he means it.

They’re both close. Too close, he thinks, for anything more than a hand wrapped around the both of them and the movement of both of their bodies moving together. There will be time for other things later. Time for Eddie to take Richie apart slowly, first with his mouth, then with his fingers. Time for Richie to cover Eddie’s body in the same number of kisses that Eddie delivered tonight. There will be time for all of that, later.

This, now. Eddie doesn’t want to wait another moment before connecting them through this.

He undoes the button of his pants and slides out of them, tossing them and his underwear in the same area he’d thrown Richie’s earlier. He gives himself a moment to preen as Richie looks at him, eyes wide and appreciative, before he climbs back into bed and slits their bodies together. Richie lets out a stuttered moan when their hips brush together.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Eddie says, and he wraps his hand around both of them.

It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect. The weight of Richie’s dick pressing against Eddie’s. The tightness of his grip around them both. Richie rocks his hips into it, connecting them, and Eddie’s breath stutters.

“God, Eddie, I,” Richie gasps out. He reaches up, twining one arm around Eddie’s middle and pressing them flush together. His other hand comes to wrap around their dicks, too. His hand is so big that it nearly envelopes Eddie’s. God, everything about Richie is so sexy. Eddie feels lightheaded with it. “Eddie. _Eds._ I—”

“I know,” Eddie pants. “I know, baby, I know.”

He crushes their mouths together. Hot, open-mouthed kisses that barely do much except make them both feel connected. The heat of Richie is everywhere. It fills this room. It fills Eddie’s heart.

“I love you,” Richie cries, and he kisses Eddie again messily. Nothing more than a press of lips. They both swallow one another’s gasps. “I love you, Eddie, I. _Fuck,_ Eddie—!”

Eddie feels suspended in time as they move in tandem, meeting one another in the middle and drawing breathless gasp after gasp out of one another. He’d be content to spend the rest of his life like this.

“I’m gonna,” Richie gasps out. His eyes squeeze shut. Eddie presses their foreheads together. He twists his hand around them both, tightening the grip as Richie fucks up, and with a helpless cry, Richie comes on his hand. He strokes Richie through it. Keeps his hand wrapped around both of them as Richie comes. Eddie’s close, too, and certain he won’t last much longer. It’s a pressure that increases when he opens his eyes and looks at Richie’s fuck-drunk face, beautiful as he comes down from the highs of his orgasm. Eddie follows behind him, coming with a staggered gasp. He buries his face in Richie’s throat.

Richie’s hand strokes up and down his back, soothing, as Eddie rides out every last second of his orgasm. By the time the blood stops ringing in Eddie’s ears, he realizes Richie has been murmuring, “That’s it, it’s okay. You did so good, baby. That’s it,” over and over again in Eddie’s ear.

Eddie feels spent, in the best possible way. Exhausted and sticky and happy in a bone deep way that he’s certain he’s going to carry in his stride tomorrow. So he stays there, laid out on Richie’s chest, breathing heavily. Lets himself feel content and safe in the warmth of Richie’s arms.

“Rich,” he murmurs. He tries to remember if sex always felt like this afterwards. He can’t remember a time he ever felt like this.

Richie hums.

“Richie,” Eddie says again. He brushes his nose against Richie’s jawline.

“M’still here,” Richie says groggily. His hand is still tracing patterns along Eddie’s back. “Still awake.”

Eddie sighs. “You tired?” he asks, forgetting what he was going to say before that.

Richie makes a small sound that Eddie interprets as a confirmation. It’s not too late, but Richie’s had an exhausting weekend. They’ve both been through so much, the last few days. Perhaps they’ve earned a little nap, or even an early bedtime.

Eddie shifts off of Richie, smiling when Richie makes small noises of protest. “I’m just gonna clean us up, then we can take a nap,” Eddie promises. He leans back down and presses a soft kiss to Richie’s waiting, willing mouth. Richie’s smiling when he pulls away.

He has wipes inside his bedside table, and they’ll do for now. It doesn’t take much for Eddie to stretch and grab a few before settling back down into bed. He cleans Richie up first, slowly and gently. Richie’s body is covered in marks that make Eddie flush all the way down his chest. He seems content by it, at least. Proud of them, even. Like he’s glad that these bruises on his body declare him as Eddie’s before anyone else’s.

Eddie uses the second wipe to clean himself up, then throws both away before climbing back into bed. Richie’s still splayed across it wrong, and fondness breaks through Eddie’s chest at the sight of it.

“C’mon, you big lug,” Eddie says, tugging on Richie’s arm to pull him into bed properly.

Lazily, Richie says, “Aw, baby, you think I’m big?”

“Big pain in my ass,” Eddie murmurs, but Richie moves as Eddie tells him to and settles happily into the mattress. His arms open expectantly. Eddie can’t help but grin.

“You love me,” Richie says matter-of-factly, as Eddie settles down into his arms and against his chest. Eddie tugs a sheet over them both. Something in his chest feels lighter when Richie sighs and curls closer to Eddie.

“I sure do,” Eddie says.

Richie lets out a breathless laugh. “Embarrassing.”

“If I remember right, you said you loved me back,” Eddie reminds him.

“Sure do,” Richie says smugly. It’s a sharp departure from the teasing response Eddie had expected. Eddie’s certain there will be more of that, later, but perhaps for now, Richie just wants it to be known. Eddie knows that’s how he feels, at least.

He kisses Richie, once, twice, three times. They kiss softly, until they both fall into an easy sleep, wrapped up in one another.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [here](https://twitter.com/SPACERICHlE) if you want to come say hello!!


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